


Pledges

by McTiddles



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, Convent AU, F/F, Origin Story, young yennefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McTiddles/pseuds/McTiddles
Summary: Tissaia is the High Priestess of the Aretuza convent on the Isle of Thanedd and takes pity on a young Yennefer, whose father sells her to clear his gambling debts.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 20
Kudos: 104





	Pledges

**Author's Note:**

> I was taking a break from Ties that Bind and I started playing around with a few different things
> 
> Tissaia should really be the Mother Superior but I thought that might be a little creepy 
> 
> I don’t know, guys, it was in my head, so I wrote it down

Yennefer knew her parents were poor. Her tummy always rumbled, and she always felt the cold. Her clothes were torn, there was an ever-present sheen of dirt on her skin and the tangles in her hair were reminiscent of a crow’s nest.

This was all Yennefer knew. It didn’t bother her, not really. She had a roof over her head and a family that provided for her. Sure, father got a little heavy handed after an ale, but didn’t everyone’s?

Her father woke her before first light, telling Yennefer he needed her help at the markets. Yennefer’s body protested, her muscles still burning from her father's outburst the previous night. She rose groggily from her bed, comprised minimally of a pile of unusable cloth spread over a layer of straw. She was lucky, really. Istredd had to sleep in his family’s chicken pen now his sister had given birth to a baby. He didn’t seem to mind too much though. He told Yennefer the animals were less whiny than the small human.

Yennefer couldn’t imagine sleeping with their pig. Although, she considered, the smell might be an improvement from the stench of stale ale that surrounds father every night. He had been furious with mother when she brought home the then piglet, accusing her of stealing coin from him before asking if she had paid for the animal in _other_ ways.

Her mother's beauty used to fill father with pride. She remembered a time father had said, “what use are material possessions to a man, when he comes home to such treasures.” These days if a man looks at mother at all father gets mad. Yennefer was young but she was no fool. She saw the way men looked at her mother, how they had started to look at Yennefer.

“Hurry up, girl. We still need to get this blasted pig to the market.”

“Mother said she was still too young to fetch a good price,” she said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“You’d best not back chat me, girl.”

There was no sign of her mother, Yennefer guessed that she had left to collect fresh water. She would be furious if she came home and found the pig missing. Yennefer knew there was little she could do to dissuade him, especially when he was in this state. Perhaps nobody would buy the pig. If nobody bought her, they could keep her for a while longer, until she was even just a little bigger. That way they would have enough money to buy food through all of winter.

She shrugged on her clothes more enthusiastically now she had a plan in mind, while vowing to find materials to sow the growing hole in the side of her shirt.

She stepped outside to find her father mumbling irritably to himself, alcohol sweating from his brow, as he tied up the pig.

“Fucking cheating, cocksuckers. I had that round. Bastards might as well have mugged me.”

Yennefer had learned by now that if she absolutely must be with her father when he was like this, it was best to say silent and obedient. He started walking, trailing the pig behind him. It had rained recently, and the ground was slippery. She watched as her father stumbled and swerved along the greasy path in front of her, the pig being pulled with him.

Yennefer followed closely all the way to the markets, on the border of Gors Valen city. She didn’t like the city much. She found the noises and smells overwhelmed her, often leaving her feeling drained. Yennefer much preferred the open air, whether it be forest, beaches or fields of grain.

Gors Valen did have one advantage, the view of the Thanedd Island was the most beautiful and impressive sight she had ever seen. Some nights, when mother had instructed her to wait for her father before returning home, she would walk to the docks to her favourite vantage point. She often sat with legs kicking over the pier, gazing upon the three towers of the Isle.

The Isle of Thanedd was the spiritual epicentre of Temeria. The pillars that saved them from sin, mother once said. Home to Aretuza, Garstang and Loxia. Aretuza was by far the most impressive of the three. It served as home to the nuns of the continent, while Garstang housed the priests. She had heard that Loxia was the administration building, used predominantly for receiving guests from the mainland, or on special occasions, when the Isle opened its doors for mass.

Sometimes, when they were particularly hungry, mother would ask the nuns for food. When Yennefer asked why they couldn’t ask them for food more often, mother told her they weren’t to take from those who needed it more than them. Mother said nothing more on the subject, but Yennefer didn’t understand why they had to go hungry at all.

The markets didn't have such a great view, but Yennefer could still see the spires of Aretuza, the most impressive structure of the three, in the distance. As they entered the bustling marketplace, Yennefer waited as her father spoke to a man sitting at a table, he signed something in a ledger, before pointing father through a line of stalls, leading to animal pens. Yennefer scurried after him, keeping close to avoid being swept away by the stream of people.

Father stopped at an empty enclosure, and upon seeing that it was even filthier than the path, he sent Yennefer in with the pig. She tied the animal securely to a wooden pole before grabbing some fresh hay from the next pen and feeding it to the pig. She moved back to the gate, her clothes muddier than ever, and saw that her father was gone. Probably scoping out a fool to buy a skinny pig, she predicted.

She climbed the fence and sat, playing with a single piece of hay, stringing it between her fingers.

“How much for the pig?”

Yennefer looked up into the intense, penetrative eyes of a nun. The woman looked kind, but the lines already cemented on her face indicated a sternness.

“It’s not for sale,” Yennefer mumbled, looking at her feet.

“Is that so? Then why is it at the markets? In the available for sale pens, no less.” The woman gave her a patient smile.

“It’s too little to sell.”

“It certainly won’t fetch as much as it would in another few weeks. I admit I’m rather curious as to its circumstances of being here.”

“Father wishes to sell it.”

“I see, and where is your father, girl?”

“I… think he’s talking with some friends,” she said, beginning to feel anxious. He had been gone for a while, she realised. Yennefer looked up at the woman, she was pretty, and her clothing was neat and didn’t have a single hole in them.

“Does he often leave you while he… talks with friends?”

Yennefer’s gaze sank back to her feet. A pair of boots emerged, appearing right in front of her. The woman brought a finger under Yennefer’s chin, before gently raising it so she could meet her gaze.

“Your lip, was that your father too?” The woman’s voice had lowered, using the tone she heard mother use when she would try and withhold her irritation at father.

She watched the woman take a deep breath as she lowered her arm from Yennefer’s face.

“Do you know your letters?”

Yennefer stared at the woman with wide eyes. She did, her mother had taught her, but father didn’t know. The woman caught her glance nervously for her father and Yennefer saw her lips disappear into a thin line.

“Are you happy?”

“Are you?” Yennefer asked quietly, she could feel her eyes tearing up in frustration. She shook her head, “do you want the pig or not?”

“What’s this then? Is the girl giving you cheek, Sister?” Her fathers voice was booming compared to the nuns, she found it thundered through her head. She looked back to the Sister, panicked, but the woman looked calm as she stood tall beside her father’s stocky frame.

“Not at all. In fact, we were having a rather delightful conversation.”

Yennefer gave her a look of desperation, trying to beg the woman not to speak too much of their conversation.

“Oh? Look, Sister -”

“High Priestess de Vries, if you please.”

She had never seen her father speechless. Yennefer could feel a wave of guilt rising within her as she took pleasure in her fathers dumbfounded expression. This woman was important, she should have realised it sooner.

“Certainly, High Priestess,” he says, and Yennefer could see him weighing the woman up.

“I hear you’re selling a pig. I must say, it looks small. I hope you’re not charging for a fully grown swine?”

“No, no, High Priestess. I merely need four marks for the beast.”

“You would be lucky to get two for it.” The High Priestess assessed the pig from the fence, “it’s much too skinny. You’d be better waiting a while.”

“Aye, well. Got into a spot of bother during a round of cards. Need to sell the beast today or the debt will grow. Dangerous men, Sister,” he said, appearing at least a little bit guilty.

“I see.” The woman deliberated, then observed Yennefer for a moment more.

“I’ll give you four marks…”

Fathers face lit up as though someone had just handed him a free ale.

“… for the girl.”

Yennefer swore her belly fell to the floor. She gave her father a look of disbelief before turning it to the High Priestess.

“No! But- “

“Hush, girl,” her father stopped her. He was considering it, she realised. He was chewing his lower lip as if he was assessing his hand of cards.

“Okay, Priestess. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be keen to know what you guys think about this one!
> 
> You can find me at:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mc-tiddles


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